I Didn't Mean It
by xDarcyDarknessx
Summary: Taichi/Yamato. Rated for drug use, abuse, sex, prostitution, and language. Was a one-shot, but I've written more in a brief relief from writer's block.
1. Paternal Reversal

Title: I Didn't Mean It

Disclaimer: Don't own it; never have, never will.

Rating: M

Pairing: Taichi/Yamato

Inspiration: "Paternal Reversal" by Bayside [Listen to it!]

Warnings: Strong language, drug abuse, abuse.

***

_Taichi, your life's not over_

_But you've given up all you live for._

"I can't stand this place, Yamato. I'm leaving, whether you come with me or not."

Taichi revved the engine. "Now, are you gonna get your stuff, or are you gonna go in there and stay? If you stay, I'm not coming back for you. Ever."

Yamato glanced at his apartment building through watery eyes. "I can't just _leave,_ Taichi. Where do you think you're going to go? You'll run out of money. You'll have to come back here one day."

"I'd sooner die."

"You're dead to me, then. How the fuck can you leave me? Just because _he _doesn't approve of how you turned out? If you leave me now, I'll try my best to forget you ever existed!" the blonde yelled, hastily leaving the passenger's seat and slamming the door to Taichi's beat-up old Honda Civic.

The brunette shifted to drive and slammed on the gas pedal, nearly crashing into a parked car as he sped off angrily.

He drove for what seemed like an eternity. He grew tired and pulled off to the side of the road. Taichi didn't recognize the scenery surrounding him. The brunette had no idea where he was.

He reached over the passenger's side, scowling when he realized the seat smelled like Yamato's cologne. Pulling open the glove box, he retrieved a small, clear bottle of white pills. He choked down six of them without water, and shifted the car into drive once again.

The road spun around him, and he just laughed. _Why give a fuck about Yamato, anyways? He wasn't anything special. _Taichi moved his hand up to his face. His eyes strained to see, and his cheeks felt puffy and wet. _Fuck Yamato. I love him so fucking much…_

Back in Odaiba, a certain blonde was having his own difficulties coping. He remembered what had finally caused Taichi to snap.

Yamato had received a phone call from his troubled boyfriend. Tai was hysterical, crying his eyes out.

"Yammie, Yammie-baby, I need out. I need to _leave. _He told me… he says I'm not his son anymore. Yama, I can't take it. I tried so hard to be the perfect son for him. Didn't I? I did well in sports, I did well enough at school… why does he _hate_ me so much, Yammie?"

Yamato was shocked. _How am I supposed to respond to that?_ "You've got me, Taichi. You've got Hikari and your mom, too. They love you. Your dad loves you too, he's just… _in shock_, I guess. He'll get over it, I promise."

Yamato took the bus to Taichi's house and comforted him. His father had gone out.

That was four months ago.

It seemed that once Taichi began believing that his father didn't love him, something changed. It was like he lost the luster that once defined his being. His once gleaming chestnut-brown eyes grew dull. He started taking pills, a lot of them. Yamato didn't know exactly what they were, he was afraid to ask. All he knew was that Tai didn't get them from a doctor.

The brunette seemed to blame Yamato for his problems, or so the blonde assumed. After all, he became totally disconnected from the blonde. Taichi didn't want to spend time with Yamato. It was as if he just used him for sex. He didn't even kiss the blonde anymore, and averted eye contact whenever possible. Yamato put up with it, in hopes that Taichi would come out of his zombie-state.

Then, there was today. Something had happened, but Yamato didn't know what. Maybe Taichi's father had made a comment, or something along those lines, but it had Tai on the phone, crying for Yamato again.

Yamato felt sick when he realized he was smiling, listening to his upset boyfriend on the telephone. He was just so glad Taichi was feeling _something_, anything.

When the blonde finally arrived at Taichi's home, the brunette was standing outside, loading a small suitcase into the trunk of his car.

"I'm leaving, Yamato. I can't take it anymore."

The blonde stood still, shocked. "What about me, Taichi? I know you don't notice, hell, you don't notice _anything_ anymore. But I've been here for you. I've been waiting for you, hoping _something_ will pull you out of this fucking… _depression_, or whatever it is, that you've been in. You're going to leave me, just like that?"

"Come with me, then, if you want me so _fucking _much." The brunette replied in a bitter tone. He was shaking. "I don't need you, Yamato. I never needed you."

"Don't be like that, Taichi. You know I love you. I love you more than anything, Taichi. Please, please don't leave me!" Yamato pleaded.

A hand crashed hard across the blonde's cheek. "Don't say that! I'm leaving. Stop trying to make me stay, Yama!" The blonde rested his fingers gingerly against his cheek as salty tears caressed the burning red hand mark.

"Get in the car. I'll drive you home."

Now _home_ was where the blonde was, but Odaiba felt empty without Taichi. Yamato walked towards his desk and picked up the framed photo of Taichi and himself. Hikari had taken it in the spring; the pair was snuggling in a large plaid blanket under a large oak tree. The blonde's eyes were closed and his head was resting on the brunette's large tanned shoulder. Tai looked down at his boyfriend, smiling.

_I didn't mean it when I said,_

_Said that you were dead to me_

_You mean the world to me._

***


	2. Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough

FIVE YEARS LATER

This place makes me sick.

The stench of booze and sweat is on their breath and their clothes. Everyone is here for the same reasons: sex, drugs, and alcohol.

The worst part is I'm no different. I'm one of them.

I glance around the room. No one strikes my interest, really. They're like rats, crowded and swarming and I can't shake the feeling of _disease_ this place gives me.

Desperate for fresh air, I rush to the front door. The empty, dark and dirty street gives me some comfort. I feel less claustrophobic here.

I feel dizzy from the club. The music, the lights, and the stench – it was all too much for me. I run a hand through my thick brown mop of hair and sit down against the cleanest looking spot against the brick wall of the club. I can hear the bass pounding from inside, and feel it through the wall.

Six months. It's been six months since I came back to Odaiba, and the place still looms over me like some impending doom. The only reason I can stand it is because I know _he's_ here, somewhere. But he told me never to see him again, so I don't.

It's kind of sick, I suppose, the way I walk down the streets he used to hang around, hoping he'll walk by and I'll just catch a glimpse of him. I haven't been so lucky yet, but if he saw me staring I might run.

I can't let him know I'm still here. I promised myself I'd do all I could to help him forget me.

I glance down the street and I don't think it's any less sickening than the inside. There are a few people around – two are giggling in drunkenness, seeming to have met their goal inside the club. They escape into an alleyway and I can hear the girl's moans from my place against the wall.

At the other end of the street there's a male prostitute on the corner. I've come to recognize them from the way they stand – he has a hand on his hip, which is jutted out just slightly, and he's smoking a cigarette. I can only see him from behind, but I doubt he'll get any customers until much later, when the club closes and desperate drunks begin to pour out.

He's blonde, and the first think I think is _Yamato._ It's not Yama, obviously, because that blonde is on tour with his band in America, and he's certainly no prostitute. Yes, I know it's pathetic, because I haven't seen Yamato in more than five years and I still keep up with what he's doing. It's been even longer since I've seen the rest of the Digidestined, with the obvious exception of Hikari.

The last time I saw Yama, I was sixteen years old. I remember leaving Odaiba, and consequently Yamato. I asked him to come with me, but he refused. I guess I can't blame him – I wasn't exactly the best boyfriend, and everything he knew was in Odaiba: friends, family, school, and his band. The Wolves (they dropped the 'Teenage' when Yamato graduated high school) have gotten really popular since then. Hell, they're probably the most famous act in all of Japan. Every teenage boy wants to be Yamato, and every girl wants to be with him.

That's why I'm not surprised that this guy looks like Yamato. He looks to be about eighteen or nineteen, and he's slim like Yama, too. What surprises me is that his blonde hair looks _natural_. It's pretty uncommon here to find a natural blonde. It's a very pretty golden blonde, from what I can see. The streetlight doesn't offer much help.

Maybe his resemblance to Yamato is what's making me do it, but I find I'm approaching him. I know it's probably pretty sick to find a whore that looks like your ex-boyfriend, and find yourself _wanting _him. I want a _whore._ It goes against everything I know, but I can't resist.

"Hey," I mutter softly, and he turns around to face me. No, he's definitely not Yamato. The blonde I know cared so much about his appearance, while this boy looks like a cheap imitation. His eyeliner is done wrong, and his shirt is wrinkled – two things Yama would never stand for. He did do the hair right, which surprises me. It's a difficult style to pull off.

--*--

"Hey," somebody mutters behind me. I turn to see a guy, probably a couple years older than me. I guess he probably came out of that club. Earlier than most, but I'm not complaining. If he wants me, I could use the money. It's late in the month and I still don't have enough to pay rent.

It's dark, and he's hard to see. He's just outside of where the streetlight shines, so I have to squint to make out his features. When I do, I nearly gasp.

It's Taichi.

I hope he doesn't recognize me, so I try to act like I don't recognize him.

"Can I help you?" I ask. He looks at his feet nervously.

"Um," he says softly, "how much?"

_Shit._ I hoped he wouldn't ask that. I offer him an inflated version of my prices, hoping he won't be able to afford it.

He can, apparently. _Fuck._

He asks me to go to his car with him. I wonder if we'll be driving somewhere, or just using the backseat. When he climbs into the driver's seat, I have my answer.

I get into the passenger's seat and he looks at me closer under the interior lights. He smiles.

"You look like someone I used to know."

_Yeah, I know._ Wait, I don't think he's thinking about me. If he knew it was _me,_ he wouldn't be doing this. As far as I know, he wouldn't have those feelings for me. The reasons were obvious enough.

No. He thinks I'm a Yamato look-alike. Well, as long as he doesn't make the connection, I'm okay with pretending.

--*--

We're back at my apartment, and suddenly my nerves hit, stronger than ever. I've never been with a prostitute before. I don't even know what to do.

"So, I've never really, um… I'm new to this. Do you want to start right away, or have a drink, or something?"

He looks around the room, spotting a framed picture of Yamato and I, back when we were dating. I have my arm around him, looking down at him, and he's lying on my shoulder. I think he was asleep. We were under a big plaid blanket, which I've kept for all these years. It's pretty tattered now. Hikari took the photo when we were in the Digital World for a picnic.

"Is this who I remind you of?" he asks nervously. I nod. He looks nervous.

"Okay, I guess we can start now." he mutters. I lead him to my bedroom. "I don't kiss. You want it quiet, or loud?"

I remembered Yamato. He was always loud. He'd scream my name when he came. He moaned – 'like a whore', he said. I always found it cute. It turned me on, really. He would get embarrassed when I told him so, though. He always tried to stay quiet, and always failed, except in those few months before I left. The passion drained out of our relationship pretty quickly when I got depressed.

"Loud," I finally reply. He nods, and turns away from me, beginning to undress. I just watch him nervously. When he's done, he turns back around and looks at me seductively. He approaches, and I feel his hands playing with my belt. He kneels and pulls down the fly with his teeth. It's official. I'm turned on.

Pulling down my boxers, he takes no time to get started. With one hand at the base and the other touching my balls, he seals his mouth around the rest and bobs his head up and down my member.

I tangle my hands in his hair and arch towards him, trying not to thrust hard into his mouth.

Yamato always refused to give blow jobs, and I never tried to pressure him about it. I guess he just didn't like the idea of using his mouth. After all, it's that pretty little mouth of his and the beautiful voice that escapes it that has made him a famous.

Either way, it was still unfair. I would give Yamato blowjobs, and I could tell he enjoyed it. He craved it – it was like an addiction for him. Not once did he return the favor. I'm a little ashamed to admit that this prostitute is giving me my first.

I'm almost there, and the whore pulls away. He finds his jeans on the floor, and fumbles around for a minute before retrieving a condom and a bottle of lubricant from his pocket. Handing them to me, he silently takes his position on the bed.

--*--

I hand him a condom and lube and get myself ready. To be honest, I'm scared. I don't know if I'll ever be able to think of him the same way after this.

Tai was always my protector – he was always there when Yamato couldn't be. I was thirteen when he left. I'm eighteen now. I guess it's no real surprise he didn't recognize me. I make a living by looking like Yama.

I get more girls than most of the other guys. After all, they all want to have a night with the singer of the Wolves, and I'm the closest thing to it. I've never told any of them how close I really am to him. Not only would they think I was lying, but I don't need any of them knowing who I am. I've never so much as shared my name with a client. If they want a name to scream, they can scream for Yamato.

It's who they wish I was, anyways.

Tai gets ready, and I feel him positioning himself behind me. He's clenching my hips now, his fingers digging in nervously. I remember that he told me to be loud. I keep it in mind to exaggerate.

He presses against and slowly slides in. He doesn't need to be careful, I'm used to it by now, but I guess he didn't think of that. When I don't protest, he pulls out and begins thrusting slowly.

I moan loudly, like he told me to, and so does he. He even occasionally hits _that_ spot, which makes me moan for real. He quickens his pace.

Suddenly I feel his hand on me, reaching around. Usually this doesn't happen. They don't think about me. To be honest, it makes me a little uncomfortable, but I don't protest. He's paying me, after all. I might as well enjoy it.

My moans turn to screams of joy as he reaches his climax and I reach mine. I come on his hand and scream.

"Oh, Taichi!"

He's panting as he thrusts into me one last time, and releases inside of me. He pulls out, exhausted.

I get up and prepare to leave. As I'm pulling on my jeans, he's searching the wallet on his nightstand for cash. An odd look crosses his face.

"I never told you my name."

_Fuck._ How am I gonna get out of this one?

"Yes, you did, when we were in your car," I lie. He shakes his head.

"I didn't. Who are you? I know you're not Yamato. Are you some stalker? What the fuck, dude?"

I want to run. I want out of his apartment, now. But if I leave, he won't pay me, and it's too late to get back to the club. It will be long closed by now, and the rush of potential customers will have left. I need tonight's money, badly.

I feel tears rolling from my eyes. "You know," I start, "I wish you didn't treat me like some Yama fuck-doll. I'm not Matt. But everyone treats me like I am – they all want a piece of the Wolves. They see him on stage and I'm the closest they can get to having him. It's worse with you… you want him because you love him, I know you do, but then you fuck me. Is that all you loved him for? His body?"

--*--

The whore is crying now. I made him cry. All I wanted to know is how the _fuck_ he knew my name. But I guess it's emotional for him… weird.

"…I'm not Matt. But everyone treats me like I am – they all want a piece of the Wolves…" he chokes out through the tears. He goes on about me treating him like a 'Yama fuck-doll' and how everyone wants him to be Yama. He tells me I love Yama. How does he know these things?

Wait.

None of the Wolves fans call Yama 'Matt'… so he's not a crazed fan? Actually, I've only ever heard Hikari call him that, because Takeru did. 'Kari and Takeru used to be so close. I actually thought they would date, but something always got in the way.

I slowly realize who the half-dressed boy before me is.

"Fuck," I say aloud. "Takeru."

He nods. I feel sick. "Did you recognize me this whole time?" I ask. He nods again. He's still crying.

I quickly pull on some fresh clothes and wrap my arms around him. He follows me towards my small living room, and I go to start making some tea. Setting the kettle on the stove, I return to him.

He's pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, like a scared child. I sit beside him, cautiously.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I finally ask.

"I needed the money." he replies quietly, ashamed. "I knew you didn't recognize me. You thought I was just another Yamato look-alike. It's what I tried to be."

I nod. The kettle whistles, and I go to make us some tea. On the way back, I grab my wallet. Retrieving the set amount, I hesitate. I grab a few more bills. It's more than twice as much. I hand him the tea and he grabs it with both hands, so I set the money on the coffee table in front of him.

"Tai, that's too much," he states plainly.

"Take it."

I wonder why he's so desperate for money. I remembered why I left Odaiba, left Minato, and left Tokyo, for what I thought would be forever.

I was addicted to drugs. My dad hadn't been okay with my sexuality, so I used painkillers to cope. Eventually, everything became too much of a blur for me to handle.

I wasn't living in reality anymore. I hoped this wasn't the case for Takeru.

I remember what Yamato told me, on the day I left.

_'You're dead to me.'_

I guess I really was, because he moved on with his life. I don't know what exactly happened after I left, but he always seemed so happy now. I watched every Wolves interview, performance, and music video that he ever did. I could hear the joy in his voice.

I wonder if he has found someone else.

"Takeru… what happened after I left?"

He sighs. Setting down his tea, the young blonde looks at me.

"He became really distant. At first, I was scared for him. I guess I got used to it, though, because I stopped noticing him after a while. He became sort of… invisible. It was like he faded into the background.

I knew you had left, and I knew that was what bothered him, but I didn't really understand at the time. He had never even told me you two had been dating, or that he loved you. I thought he was being selfish for missing you. After all, we all missed you. Hikari always kept a positive attitude about it, but I knew even she didn't expect you to come back. You've always been stubborn.

Then, about six months after you left, I found Matt at home in his bed, curled up in a ball and sobbing his eyes out. He must have been like that for hours, because the sheets were damp with tears. He was shrieking, really hysterical. He just kept saying your name, over and over.

He didn't move for a long time. Sometimes he would quiet down and quit screaming, but not for long. After the second day, Dad took him to the hospital.

They wanted to put him in the psych ward, and he did go there for a while, but he stopped crying. He would just sit there, with a blank expression on his face. They had to hook him up to a bunch of tubes, because he refused to eat. He wouldn't even use the washroom on his own – they had a tube for that, too.

I went to see him one day, and I kind of snapped at him. I told him that if you came back and saw him like this, you'd laugh at the damage you'd caused. I told him you hated him. I knew it wasn't true, of course, but I was trying to coax a reaction out of him. Anything would be better than that blank stare.

And then he just turned and punched me square in the nose. I was so _happy_. He seemed to snap out of it, I guess. I told him about everything he'd missed in my life – I was dating Ken, which kind of shocked him because he missed me coming out. I had told him, of course, but he hadn't heard me. He had been in his blank mode, a walking coma.

The Wolves had been on hiatus, waiting for him to get better. It was a year after you left before he re-joined the band. Did you know that all of his songs are about you?

After a while, he seemed to get over you, but he was different. He's been dating this guy, Shawn, for about two years. The guy looks a lot like you. And he writes these songs for Shawn, or so he says. I've always known they were for you. He doesn't love Shawn; it shows. They fight a lot. Matt starts fights with him over nothing. I guess he just can't be what Matt needs."

I'm in shock. I thought Yamato would get over me. I thought he was happy.

Maybe he was just putting on a happy face for the camera. He was always good at faking it.

"And… you think I'm what he needs?"

Takeru smiles. "I know it."

I want to see Yamato, now. It's been five years since I've seen him in person. I wonder if he'd recognize me.

If Takeru is right, then I know he would.

I wonder if he hates me for leaving him. But now I'm sure of what I need to do.

"Takeru… are you up for a trip to America?"


	3. Los Angeles, I'm Yours

Song is "Paternal Reversal" by Bayside, from the acoustic album.

I don't own it, Anthony Raneri does.

***

The pair boarded the plane as quickly as possible, after hastily packing for the trip. I didn't have many possessions, anyways. What I brought with me was most of what I owned.

Taichi had quickly thrown in anything he thought he might need, and now that they were on the plane, he was fretting about things he might have forgotten. It was kind of annoying, actually. I was relieved when he gave up worrying and pulled out his iPod.

I noticed he was listening to the Wolves.

About an hour into the flight, a teenage girl spotted me and started giggling.

"You're Yamato Ishida, aren't you?"

I shake my head, and then I decide to be honest. "Takeru Takaishi. Matt's my brother."

She giggles again, and Taichi pulls off his headphones to figure out what the commotion's about.

"What's going on, TK?"

I shake my head. "Nothing, Taichi. You should sleep, it's kinda late."

The girl looks shocked. "Taichi? But… no, it couldn't be."

Tai looks up at her through sleep-dazed eyes. "What do you mean?"

She says something about a rare recording of The Wolves, from back when they were the Teenage Wolves. It's called 'Paternal Reversal', apparently. "I think they recorded it just before they took that year-long hiatus. But… well, I'll be right back."

The girl runs to get an mp3 player from her seat. She scrolls through and finds the song. Tai puts her headphones on.

--*--

_Taichi, your life's not over_

_But you've given up all you live for_

_Put the bottle down and fix the things you ran from_

_Do you say what you really mean?_

_Are you really how you're perceived to be?_

_If the lights go out tomorrow, would you know?_

The recording quality is mediocre at best, and I wonder if it's not one of those songs they recorded in their practice space. Yamato would do that sometimes, to see if he liked the way a song sounded.

His voice sounds bitter, and it's like he's asking if I actually ever cared about him. I can hear it in his voice. He thinks I lied every time I told him I loved him. It hurts.

_I don't wanna call your family,_

_Tell them to build a coffin_

_Because their oldest son just overdosed on pills_

_You've got a red glare in your eyes_

_And the sky outside your door's a blacker blue_

_I hate to see what's become of you._

So he did know about the drugs. Well, I knew he saw me taking them. I thought he'd be too naïve to realize I was addicted. I guess he wasn't. He always was quick to pick up on things.

_Taichi, it's just a stick in the spokes_

_It's not too late for you to find your way home_

_Because your friends are still here_

_And your family's where you left them_

_So put on a clear head and try out for a ride_

_Because you're better than this and you can better your life_

_You can't choose your father_

_And we're suffering together._

I never knew I caused Yamato so much pain. I promised myself I'd never hurt him. I'd never hurt him like my dad hurt me.

The morning I left Yamato was the day my dad left our family.

I remember he was arguing with mom. I was listening in, because I could hear it was about me.

I had come home late from Yamato's house, and he had snapped. He slapped me in the face, and told me I wasn't his son. It wasn't the first time.

He was drunk. My mom was screaming. I heard the front door slam.

Mom came into my room and told me that it was okay. He loved me, he just didn't realize it. She assured me that he'd be back soon.

I didn't want him to come back. I never wanted to see him again.

_You're getting closer to the end of your rope_

_I never thought you'd let yourself get so cold_

_But lately I've been thinking about all the things I said to you_

_And now I need to prove that_

_I didn't mean it when I said, said that you were dead to me_

_You mean the world to me._

I hurt him, the same way my dad hurt me. I even slapped him in the face when he got mad at me for leaving – I guess the apple didn't fall far from the tree.

I always thought of my dad as a monster. I suppose I'm no better. I wonder if he tried to hate me, the way I tried to hate my father.

I feel myself crying. I thank the girl and return her mp3 player. Her name is Hayley, or at least that's what I think she said. To be honest, I wasn't listening.

She's not leaving. She looks… concerned? I'm not sure. I just want to be alone right now. God damn plane.

Suddenly, I feel nauseous. It's like the plane is jerking around, not stable like before. It's not just me. Hayley falls down and lands awkwardly over Takeru, and they hold on to each other for support. I grab Takeru's arm nervously.

"Are we going to die?" I scream. Hayley's eyes are tightly shut, as if she's trying to ignore the screaming and shaking all around her.

My face is soaked with tears. "I don't want to die, Takeru. I need to tell Yama that I love him! I can't die now!"

Takeru's hand finds mine and squeezes it comfortingly. "We're not going to die, Taichi. Just wait it out."

It's harder than it sounds. I reach for the paper bag in the back of the seat in front of me and my stomach empties. The stench almost makes me throw up again, but my mouth just makes a horrible retching sound. I've got nothing left to throw up.

Eventually, it passes. A flight attendant comes around and cleans up puke. She takes the bag from me, and hands me a new one just in case. What a terrible job that must be.

Later, she brings two small packets of crackers and a glass of water. I'm thankful. She smiles at me.

Hayley looks terrible, though Takeru is about the same. Her long blue hair is messed up. There's a seat beside Takeru, as the seats are in threes. I'm at the window.

TK offers Hayley the seat beside him, and she accepts. I can tell she's scared to walk back to her seat, just in case the turbulence hits again.

"Are you going to Los Angeles, too, or transferring after this flight?" Takeru asks her.

"L.A," she replies.

"Do you have tickets to the Wolves concert? Because we don't have any yet, but if I talk to Matt I can probably get you a VIP pass. What are you doing going to America, anyways? You look too young to be travelling to another continent alone."

It's true. She's Takeru's age at most, but could be much younger. She blushes, so I assume Takeru is right.

"I'm seventeen," she replies. "And I don't have tickets yet. To be honest, I'm running away from home. I don't really want to talk about it, though."

Takeru just nods. I decide it's a good time to interrupt their conversation.

"I ran away once," I say quietly. "I thought it would fix all my problems – get everybody off my back, you know? And now I'm flying halfway across the world to try and fix everything I broke that day."

Hayley looks at her feet. I don't know why she's leaving, but it had better be a damn good reason. I wouldn't let her make the same mistake I did.

Eventually, I fall asleep on Takeru's shoulder. He doesn't seem to mind. It's strange to think that less than twenty-four hours ago, he was just some whore to me. I didn't even recognize him. But now, he was my best friend in the world. As I'm drifting off to sleep, I sit up for a second.

"'Keru… I'm sorry I used you. You're like a little brother to me. I'm supposed to protect you, but I didn't. I'm sorry."

I kiss his forehead gently, the same as I do when I'm comforting Hikari. I lean back onto his shoulder and drift off to sleep.

--*--

"I'm supposed to protect you, but I didn't. I'm sorry." he says and he kisses my forehead. Soon, he's fast asleep.

Hayley gives me a questioning look, but I just shake my head and change the subject.

"So… what are your plans for when you get to Los Angeles?"

She looks nervous. "I haven't got any," she admits. "I've got a thousand bucks and I speak English well. I'm hoping that's enough to get me by, at least until I can find a job."

I nod, though I wonder if she has a working visa. Hayley might be in for a rude awakening when she gets to America.

Considering this, I come to a conclusion.

"Why don't you stay with Taichi and I when we get there? That way, you'll know someone when you get there – us. You don't have to worry about anything, either. Tai can pay, I'm sure; he knows how broke I am and seems to be loaded. Neither of us likes girls, and we're not creeps, so no worries, right?"

She thinks about it for a minute, and nods. "Okay," she replies before yawning and claiming my left shoulder as a pillow.

Oh, joy. Now I get to try and sleep without disturbing either of them.

--*--

Takeru nudges my shoulder and tells me we've landed. I look out the window; it's morning. We leave the plane, get our bags, and take a taxi to the hotel. Hayley's with us. Takeru tells me she's going to stay with use for a while, and I'm okay with that. It'll be nice to know more people in Los Angeles.

When we reach the hotel, Takeru asks if Matt Takaishi has checked in. It must be a pseudonym. After all, fans might try to find them at the hotel.

Apparently, the Wolves weren't staying at our hotel. We get up to the room and Takeru pulls a large phonebook out of the nightstand. Grabbing the phone, he starts calling hotels.

After about twenty minutes of calls, he raises a fist in victory.

"Yes, could I talk to him, please? Oh, I see. Could you tell him his brother, Takeru, is calling?"

He tells me he's on hold. Yamato has told the desk to block calls from anyone he doesn't personally know, or who isn't involved with the concert. The call seems to go through.

"Hey Matt! Long time no chat!" he says into the receiver, smiling. "No, nothing's wrong. I just came to see the gig – well, it's more than that, really. It's kind of important. No, no one's dead. Look, could I just meet you somewhere? Your hotel?" He grabs a pad of paper and a pen from the nightstand, scribbling down an address and room number. "We'll be there as soon as possible. W-what? No, I meant 'I'. I'll be there as soon as possible. Uh, bye!" He hangs up the phone and grabs the paper.

"Let's go." he says, motioning for us to leave.

***

Thanks Dragon77, Minato-Akemi, and bed of nails and sandpaper for the lovely reviews!

I'd write you nice long thank-you messages but it's like four in the morning and I'm hardly sitting up in my chair, let alone think coherently. (wrote the actually story when wide awake, don't worry.)

So, accept hugs! *hugs all of you*


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